Bond
by Lady Thigocia
Summary: This is the "Hellboy Fanfic Excerpt" story. Review, if you please! Warning; Nuada/OC relationship will not be established for a while. Don't hurt me! :  Christian Story HIATUS
1. Just a Story

Well, here it is, the first chapter of "Bond", a Hellboy fanfic. Ok, the title's not that great. I'll have to work on that.

Anyways, remember, this is a Christian story. In other words, there will be, so called, "religion" mentioned in this story. Do not say that I didn't warn you.

I wanted a different spin on Hellboy. Ok, I wanted my spin. Who doesn't want their own spin in a movie? Anyways, I decided to add a few more characters… or, maybe a lot.

I liked Nuada as a mysterious and driven character, even though I did not care for certain decisions that he made, obviously. I then read a few Nuada stories here on . Some were very good and others… well, everyone has their own tastes and favorite types of literature. That's the way it has been and always will be.

As I read, I started coming up with many plot lines. Some of them I liked and actually tried to write. Others, I would just get a huge writer's block and quit. I thought about it and then found my plot.

I do not own Hellboy or the characters from the comic series or the movies. I do, though, own my OC's. Please ask if you want to use one or two of them… if you're even interested, which is unlikely.

Now that I've prattled on about stuff that doesn't affect you in any way, let's get on to the story.

_

* * *

_

1955

_Oh, you better watch out,_

_You better not cry_

_You better not pout_

_I'm telling you why_

_Santa Clause is coming_

_To town_

Professor Trevor Broom turned off the radio, sighing. The snow was falling gently outside the window. He stood, picking up a few books and walking through the small bunker. Hellboy sat in front of the TV, engrossed in the "Howdy Doody Show".

"My son," groaned Broom, picking up two other books, "will you turn off that wretched puppet? Brush your teeth."

He walked around another pile of books, sitting on the floor, in order to reach the large, wooden box. Carefully, he placed the books inside.

"Don't call him a puppet."

He looked up, slightly confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"Look," said Hellboy, pointing towards the small screen with his stone hand, "he's not a puppet. Howdy Doody's real. He's real!"

Broom only tied his robe and walked to the TV. "Well, Mr. Deedee Doodoo will have to say good night."

He turned off the TV, much to his "son's" disappointment. The red boy held his toy even tighter to himself, as if hoping that it would offer him a form of sympathy. Of course, that did not happen.

"And remember," reminded the professor, bending at the boy's level, "you have to be asleep when he comes down the chimney."

The strange youth looked from the small stove to his "father" with skepticism. "It's not even a chimney, Pop."

"Oh, he has his ways," he assured, smiling.

"Then, I want to wait up! Watch him do it!"

"Nonsense," rebuked Broom, straightening.

Hellboy sighed. "Okay. I want a story then."

He crossed his arms. "Oh, no, no, no. No stories tonight."

"Just one," pleaded the boy. "And then I'll go to bed, right away! Then… I'll brush my teeth! I promise!"

Broom didn't know exactly what made him smile. It could have been the boy's determination of staying up later than needed, his hesitation at the prospect of brushing his teeth, or the fact that his son was so strange, that he could not say no. Whatever the reason, it all led to his opening of the mysterious box and removing a blue, felt book.

Hellboy's eyes lit up at it, as if receiving a new toy. He stared towards the strange symbol on the cover, curiosity evident in his youthful face. He made himself comfortable beside the stove, as Broom sat in his chair.

"Very well, then," he said, opening the book. He murmured a moment, as he flipped the pages. "Ah, yes, there."

He cleared his throat, beginning the tale.

_It is said, that at the dawn of time, man, beast and all magical beings lived together in a great forest and garden, so called Eden. But man, tainted by sin, was thrown from Eden, given a promise of redemption and a kingdom of Heaven to come._

_Many magical beings became jealous of their Maker's pity on man. In their pride and greed, the magical beings marched to battle against man. The blood of many an elf, ogre, goblin and all magical beings was spilled in their war with man. And King Balor, the one-armed king of Elfland, watched the slaughter in dread and despair, for he had been told that man had waged war on the Nymphs, the more peaceful creatures of the Earth._

_But one day, the master of the goblin blacksmiths, offered to build the Elf King a golden, mechanical army, seventy-times seventy soldiers, who would never know hunger and could not be stopped. Prince Nuada begged his father to agree. "Build me this army", the king said._

_And so, a magical crown was forged that would allow those of royal blood to command Golden Army, if unchallenged. "I am King Balor, leader of the Golden Army. Is there anyone who disputes my right?" And in his throne room, no one challenged his word._

"But, wait," interrupted Hellboy, his mouth full of toothpaste. "What if someone could challenge him? Would they have a fight?"

"Well, most likely," answered Broom. "A challenge must be answered. But do you want to hear the end of this story or not?"

"Yes, please," mumbled the boy, brushing his large teeth.

"Right. So-

_The world was changed and the next time the humans marched against the magical beings, they felt the earth tremble beneath their feet and saw the sky darken with monstrous shapes. The Golden Army had no remorse, felt no loyalty or pain. Thousands were slaughtered, whether they were man or friends of man. Queen Nada of the Nymphs pleaded with King Balor to listen to reason and remember the Maker's covenant with man._

_The King of Elfland's eyes were opened and his heart grew heavy with regret. He offered a sacrifice to the Maker and then called a truce with man. He ordered that the crown be divided into three pieces, one for the humans and two for himself. In exchange, man would keep to their territories and the magical beings would own the hidden realms. This truce would be honored by their sons and the sons of their sons, until the end of time._

_But Prince Nuada did not believe in the promises of man. It is said that he went into exile, vowing to return the day his people needed him most. Hundreds of Dark Elves and ogres joined a cult that vowed to bring the end of man. However, this cult was found and destroyed by Nephilim, giants who were born from the sons of God and the daughters of the earth. Their remains are cursed and their offspring given a seal, that would alert any nation of a dark child in their midst._

_So, the Golden Army lay dormant, locked inside the Earth, waiting. And there it is to this day, awaiting the day the crown is made whole again. Silent, still and indestructible._

Broom smiled, closing the book. He stood from the bed, while Hellboy pondered the last word.

"What does it mean," he attempted, "i-industrable?"

"Indestructible," corrected Broom, turning to his son. "It means no one can destroy them. Go to sleep, my son."

Hellboy pulled out his toy gun, adjusting himself, but then looking up. "But it's just a story, right, Pops?"

"Is it now," he asked.

"Yeah, those guys, they can't be real!"

Broom smiled, wryly. "Oh, my son, I'm sure you will find out."

Hellboy took a moment to consider it, but then turned on his side to fall asleep. Broom sighed, closing the curtain.

He walked to the box, placing the book back in its place. His eyes looked towards the bedroom, as he sighed again.

"I'm sure you will find out."

1955, just outside of Paris…

The forest was silent. No owl flew in the night sky. Not even mice dared to leave their nests. Snow petals fell quietly to the leaf-covered floor, the only source of sound in the area…

that is, until it came.

It was darkness. Its presence brought a cold wind upon the forest. Its cloak hid its features, only its glowing eyes visible from underneath the cowl.

Another pair of footsteps approached, tentative. The second visitor was light, his hair bright and his skin a pale white. His one hand gripped a spear, as his other held a sword.

He slowly approached darkness, his caution obvious. Darkness was not to be trusted. It deceived and played tricks on light. It waited, silent.

"I was told that you wished an audience with me," said Light. He lifted his chin. "I am here."

Darkness chuckled, lowly. "You still do not trust me, after all that we have been through, together?"

"If I recall, our last encounter was our reason for our dislike of each other."

It cocked its head. "Our dislike is only natural, born within us. You seek day and I am night… opposite sides of the coin, as it were."

Light grunted, looking away. "You asked for me and I obliged in not killing you. Speak your peace."

"Very well."

Darkness moved to a tree, its shadows following. "Your time is coming, I have heard. If that is so, then I wish to be a part of it."

Light's eyes narrowed. "You would aid me in my quest?"

"We both seek the end to the human race… along with those who stand beside them."

He seemed to consider it, his face emotionless. His opposite waited, patiently.

"And your terms?"

Darkness paused for a long moment, before whispering, "I want her."

Light's head tilted to the side, wearing a fake mask of confusion.

"Do not mock me," it growled, its eyes flickering under the cowl. "You know where she is and I want her!"

He shook his head, slowly. "You cannot. She is bound to him."

Darkness began to grow in size. "NO!"

The roar echoed across the forest. The trees shuddered, their bows wishing to enfold in their trunks. Light only stood, gripping his weapons tighter.

"You have become cold, Light," it hissed, mournfully.

He looked distant. "Perhaps…. I do not agree to your terms." He turned away. "Goodbye."

"ELF," snapped Darkness, moving forward. "You have your weaknesses as well! Do not forget that _I_ saved _your_ pathetic life! You are indebted to me and I _will _summon you. When that day comes… you shall have no choice but to bring her to me."

Light lifted his head, his back towards Darkness, and the moonlight before him.

Author's Note; Reviews, if you please! I know it is only a prologue, but I want to know what you think.


	2. Alexandra White and a Manor

_New York City, present day…_

Journal Log 321; Saturday, 9:32 AM

I'm still job hunting. I need a job, if I am going to survive in this world. Mrs. Adams says that, as soon as I turn eighteen, I'm out of the orphanage and on my own. I wouldn't mind it. I want out of here, but I will need money to actually live in an apartment, pay for taxis and probably bills.

Audrey bragged about her and her boyfriend's "close" relationship again. I've seen her check out the other guys though. In some ways, I pity her. Her mother was a prostitute who got pregnant accidently and decided to sell Audrey, when she was born. Luckily, the buyer was an undercover policeman and she was sent to the orphanage. I guess she got tangled in the wrong crowd, though.

I'm still reading my Bible and listening to different sermons on the internet, when I can. I am concerned for my well-being, yes, but I know that God will take care of me.

I had to stop taking defense classes. The orphanage has had budget cuts, because they don't have funding anymore. I will miss the classes, but Mr. Lorne had told me that I was too advanced to continue with him anyway. I guess that's good.

I better go and search for more jobs. I'm going to go to one in Jersey. Hopefully it's not as bad as New Yorkers say it is.

Alexandra

"Hey! Alex!"

Alexandra fought the urge to roll her eyes, as she walked towards the exit. She turned towards the high-pitched voice coming from behind her.

Audrey came walking over, her tank top clinging to every crevice in her body. She adjusted it, so that more of her stomach showed.

"Whatcha doin'," she asked, her hands on her hips.

"Looking for a job," answered Alexandra.

The blonde scoffed. "Is that a Jersey paper?"

She looked at the wanted paper and then nodded. "Yeah. It is. Why?"

"Oh, I guess you just didn't fit the bill of a New Yorka, didn't ya?"

Alexandra turned to leave. "Goodbye, Audrey."

"Ah, don't go gettin' uptight, Alex," said blondie, tossing her hair to the side. "I'll bet you'll fit in Jersey." She walked at the dark-haired girl's side. "I'll walk with ya. Todd's pickin' me up."

Her brows furrowed. "I thought you were dating Josh."

Audrey scoffed again, fluffing her hair. "That loser? Are ya kiddin'? Todd's gotta bike and a butt that'll change a girl's look on life."

Alexandra opened the door, making her way out towards the gate. She waved to some of the smaller kids, playing on the playground. Erica, a five year-old, waved back.

"I'm tellin' ya, Alex," said Audrey, "I don't get ya. You're constantly readin' that Bible of yours and writin' something." She grinned, wryly. "Are you writing something… entertaining? I could give ya some ideas."

The girl had it and turned to her. "Not everyone focuses on hooking up with dead beats like you do, Audrey! You're always saying how your mother was a slut, well, guess what? You're just like her!"

The blonde stood shocked and eyes wide. Alexandra immediately felt regret. Audrey was very emotional, when it came to be compared to her mother.

"Audrey," she sighed. "I'm… sorry."

The words were so difficult to say, especially when Audrey lifted her nose in the air. She then let out a most unpleasant ring of words at Alexandra, before walking to the gate, where a motorcycle rode up. A guy in a leather jacket kissed Audrey and had her get on. She stuck on a helmet, before they took off.

_Oh, Lord. Why did I do that?_

Alexandra sighed, walking towards the bus station down the street. She looked at the paper, finding her one circle. It was a cleaning job at some huge house. She'd be able to take a bus to Jersey and then walk to it in less than two hours.

New York City was always crowded and moving. She was used to it, but she would rather be in the country somewhere. It was too dirty and violent. The country had no people and no traffic. That suited her just fine.

The bus arrived to take her to Jersey. She paid the driver, before choosing a seat. In a public bus, it seemed that you had to pick your poison. No seat was really "clean".

As the traffic passed by, she pulled out the newspaper ads. None of them had suited her… except for one. It was for cleaning. She didn't mind cleaning and needed the money. She even did some research to find out how much she should ask for, when it came to her check.

She read the ad again.

Wanted; Need someone to aid in the housework at Orion Manor. Will discuss payment upon interview. Please call between 8 AM and 9 PM.

Of course, they gave the phone number and address. Alexandra had called and set up an interview. She needed to jump at this chance, before someone else did.

The drive was long, but quiet. There were three other passengers, but they either read magazines or listened to their IPods. It was common and not out of the ordinary.

When they finally reached the drop off, Alexandra's eyes widened. She could see the manor on top of the hill. It was much larger than she thought it would be. It was about four stories high, made of a strange stone and had several chimneys on the roof.

"Oh, boy," she breathed, nervously. She gave a shaky laugh. "That's a lot to clean."

As she made her way up the driveway, she found that there was a gate in front of her. She sighed, trying to figure out what she should do. It was quite rude to just open the gate and make your way in. Then again, she was scheduled for an interview.

"May I help you?"

Alexandra nearly yelped, upon hearing the voice. It came from the stone column, holding one part of the gate. She made her way over and found an intercom system.

When she finally found the button, she held it down as she said, "I'm Alexandra White. I'm here for an interview for a job."

There was a long pause. "Very well. Come to the front door."

The gate opened, obviously remotely. She pushed the button again.

"Thank you."

Quickly, she ran up the driveway. These people sounded a little… well, pushy. The last thing she wanted was to keep them waiting.

The doors were enormous and made of a real wood that, Alexandra could only guess, was a sort of oak tree. She lifted the bronze doorknocker, hitting the door twice.

The doorknocker was strange-looking. Holding the ring was a winged angel, her head looking upwards and her hair blowing in the "wind". A sword was at her side, resting on her hip. Her robe shaped her curves, falling gently over her bare feet.

_That's something you don't see every day._

Just then, the door screeched open. A man in a gray suit appeared, his brown hair well-trimmed and moosed. He was probably in his thirties or early forties. Either way.

He sighed. "Come in."

_Glad to meet you too._

Alexandra stared at her new surroundings. The floor was a type of dark marble and the walls a dark wood. The cathedral ceiling reached up to three floors, a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A winding staircase was in front of her, winding and touching each floor.

"Are you coming, Ms. White?"

She broke from her daze and followed after the "butler". He walked through a door on the left, leading into a den of some sort. They walked through it, however, and entered a long, open hallway. There was even another staircase, passing by them.

"When was this built," she asked, looking at the man.

"Back in the thirties," he answered, rolling his eyes.

She turned her gaze to a column, beside the staircase. "Why hasn't anybody heard of it?"

"It's called 'private property' for a reason," he answered. He stopped at a pair of doors, leading into another room. "Wait here and don't touch anything!"

She watched him enter the other room, before crossing her arms.

_What a miserable little man!_

"Don't mind Steward."

Alexandra nearly leaped from fright. She spun around to find a young man, perhaps her age, making his way down the stairs. He gave a playful smile, his blue eyes sparkling.

"He has no other life than this place," he explained, reaching the floor. "He's worked with my grandfather for all this time."

She glanced at the door. "Oh."

The blonde boy held out a hand. "Eric Thornton."

She shook it, taking note of his English accent. "Alexandra White."

"I take it you're here for the job," he asked, nodding towards the newspaper.

"Yeah," she said.

He smiled, sticking his hands in his jean pockets. "Maybe we'll see each other more than we think, then."

A blush crept up on her face. "Maybe."

The door opened, revealing Steward. "Ms. White, if please…"

She looked back at Eric, smiling. "It was nice to meet you."

"Good luck," he said, giving her a wave.

Steward led her into a room filled with books. It was a small study, with a desk in front, facing the door and a fireplace on the right side of the room. Swords hung over the fireplace, one medieval-looking and one a strange, black blade. On some of the shelves of books, were different medieval pieces, such as bracers, knives and jewelry.

Sitting at the desk was an older man. His hair was gray and obviously combed. He wore a brown suit, one that would suit someone during the forties, not the twenty-first century. Alexandra knew for sure that this must have been Eric's grandfather, when she saw his eyes. They were exactly like Eric's, a crystal blue.

"Welcome to Orion Manor," greeted the man, standing. Yet again, an English accent. "Please, have a seat."

She obeyed, sitting in one of the two chairs, in front of the desk. Steward closed the curtains over the window, blocking out the blinding sunshine. He then stood beside the older man.

"I am Professor Thornton," he introduced, sitting. "I take it that you've met Steward?"

She nodded, glancing at the "butler". At that moment, she realized how underdressed she was. A pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and a purple, wool sweater didn't seem to be quite enough, especially for potential employers, like these.

He leaned back in his seat. "You are looking for a job, then, Miss…?"

Again, she nodded. "Alexandra White and yes. I saw your ad in the paper."

"Yes, you see, Steward has had his hands full, since our last cleaning lady left," explained Thornton. "Needless to say, that hasn't helped in our living arrangements." He studied her. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," she answered.

He hummed, rubbing his chin. "Considering your age, we'll allow you to come at nine in the morning to three in the afternoon. Does that sound suitable?"

She nodded, smiling. This meant that she definitely had the job.

"We would be paying you twelve an hour," he continued, "of which you will receive by check. Is this also suitable?"

"Yes, sir," she answered.

He smiled. "Very well, then. I suppose that Steward should show you around the manor and where are the most problematic spots."

Steward walked towards the door. "If you'll follow me."

Alexandra stood up. "Thank you, Professor Thornton."

"No thanks needed, dear," he assured.

She walked out of the door and followed Steward.

_That went better than I thought._

Thornton waited until the girl left, before he turned towards the fireplace. "You can come out now."

Slowly, the fireplace moved to the side, revealing a hidden passage. A figure stepped out of it, darkness following its path.

"She'll work for us," said Thornton.

"Good. You've done well, Thornton, as always."

He looked towards the door. "She has a lot of potential."

"Why else would I suggest you hiring her," asked the figure. It moved towards the passage, the shadow following. "There are plans now in motion. We must move cautiously, if we are to have her completely."

"She will be difficult to simply persuade. Something tells me that she will not like our… offer."

The figure moved back into the darkness. "She will… she must."

Slowly and silently, the fireplace moved back into position.

Author's Note; Review! I appreciate comments.


	3. Murder or Dinner?

"Ah, come man! That ain't right!"

The ten-year old, African American boy watched his friend climb up the fire escape. The blonde boy only ignored the other boy's rather good advice.

"I'm tellin' ya, Jake," said the blonde, tying a rope to the railing, "this is gonna be great. You got the camera?"

Jake sighed, holding up the Flip. "Yeah, I got it. That don't mean that it's a good idea!"

"You're soundin' like my Mom," he whined. He tied the other end of the rope to his waist. "Besides, I saw it on YouTube. It's gotta work!"

The other boy squinted. "Don't they hurt themselves on YouTube?"

"Shut up and start taping!"

He sighed and started the recording. The blonde made a dramatic, Superman pose, before climbing on top of the railing.

"This better be worth that quarter," muttered Jake.

"Ready," called the blonde.

"Go for it!"

He gave a salute and then leaped from the railing. However, as he fell, the rope snapped. He gave a yell, as he fell into the large, green dumpster below.

"Wade," shouted Jake, running over. He jumped onto a crate to look inside. "Wade, are you alright, man?"

The blonde groaned, lifting his head from a bag of garbage. He shook his mop, knocking off a slice of lettuce. His hand went to his nose, as his face wrinkled.

"Ah, man," he muttered.

Jake laughed, uncontrollably. "You-you… you sure showed them on YouTube, didn't ya?"

"Shut up," snapped Wade, grabbing his friends shirt and pulling him in.

The boy shot up in the dumpster. "Whatcha do that for?

"Nothin'."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on. Let's get outta here. My momma and your momma will be lookin' for us."

"Fine. Let's go."

As they began to get out of the dumpster, Wade looked towards the other end of the dumpster.

"Hey, dude," he asked, nervously. "Does… does that look a little… weird to ya?"

Jake looked back. "What?"

"That."

He pointed to a strange, red bulge. Slowly and cautiously, they approached it. Wade gulped at the same time as Jake. As they grew closer, the view became much clearer… and horrifying.

They did what any normal ten year olds would do. They screamed.

_\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/_

Alexandra sat cross-legged under the lone tree, on the orphanage's small lawn. An old notebook sat on her lap, worn and faded. She sighed, turning the pages. Several were crayon and pencil drawings, while others were early attempts at writing.

The notebook was given to her in a care package, when she was six years old. She used the notebook until twelve years, drawing and dreaming. One picture was of three stick figures. One was obviously male and the other two female. The small female wore a blue dress and had black hair.

_I guess kids stereotype when they're young, _she thought, glancing at a dark brown curl._ It can't be chestnut or rose blonde; it has to be black or yellow._

She turned several more pages, before hearing the gate open. A policeman came walking up the sidewalk with paperwork. He was looking down at the papers, as if making sure everything was correct. His dark hair and beard was well-trimmed and his uniform just as clean.

Alexandra stood up. "Hey!"

He stopped and turned towards her. "Alex! What's shakin', kid?"

She walked over, holding her notebook and sweater. "Other than the fact that you are looking at an employed fellow teenager?"

He held up his hands. "Well, look out world. Here comes Alex."

Her eyes rolled. "Funny, Guillermo." She glanced at the paperwork. "What's that?"

The officer held the papers away. "Why?"

"Just curious," she said, her hands in defense. "They're obviously there for a reason."

"Maybe I brought these along as a conversation piece," he suggested, wryly.

Alexandra crossed her arms, skeptically. He chuckled, showing that the papers were official and very much boring.

"Leftover paperwork from me arresting Jacob," he answered.

She rolled her eyes again, remembering the troublemaker. Luckily, he was sent to juvenile hall and not back to the orphanage. Arson was not fun to deal with, in a teenager.

"Well, at least I don't have to do this all morning," Guillermo said, sighing. "I've gotta go to the Bronx."

"How fun," she muttered. "What happened this time? A drug bust?"

"Not that pleasant. Don't you teenagers watch the news?"

Her brows furrowed. "It's good enough to be on the news?"

He shook his head. "You mean nasty enough. We can't even tell whether the victim was male or female."

She grimaced. "That bad, huh?"

"Watch the news and find out," he sighed. "I've got work to do."

Alexandra stepped backwards. "Same here. See ya around, Guillermo!"

"Stay out of trouble, kid," called the officer.

"When don't I," she called back.

The officer only muttered.

"You got me there…. You're not like the other trash that has to be thrown out… let's hope this latest garbage actually deserved its mode of disposal."

_\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/_

Gothic was one word to describe the assigned room. Alexandra couldn't help but look around it, awed by the pure history that surrounded her. A sword hung over the fireplace, while medieval tapestries covered the walls. Books were on the dark shelves, some placed properly and some stacked.

Cleaning such old and expensive property would be difficult.

It was. It took beyond twelve o'clock. She had to stop, in order to actually eat.

Peanut butter sandwiches were, surprisingly, a delicious treat at the moment. Steward, not enjoying the prospect of her eating in the room, escorted her to the kitchen. Of course, it was quite large and old. There was a small table, near the window, allowing her to enjoy the view of New York City, across the river.

"Please, don't get your stinky hands on the countertops," sighed Steward. He walked towards the other room. "As soon as you are finished, return to work."

Alexandra's brows furrowed. _What did I ever do to him?_

She only let out a breath and prayed silently for the blessing on her small meal. Her thoughts turned on the different trinkets that she had dusted up. She couldn't help but wonder about the swords. Where in the world did Thornton get them? There were so many. Was he a collector?

"There are drinks in the fridge, if you want them."

She leaped, finding young, Eric Thornton was leaning against the counter, five feet away. He took a long sip of soda, as he studied her.

"What is it with you and scaring me," she asked, putting a hand over her heart.

He only looked amused. "Sorry."

She stood up. "Do you have water?"

His brows furrowed. "Do you have something against the beverage that has now rocked America, known as soda?"

Her eyes rolled. "No, I just don't drink it. Water?"

Eric nodded to the fridge. "There's plenty. Take what you want. It's not like I drink it."

She pulled out a water bottle. "Let me guess. You're a caffeine junkie."

His one brow rose. "I've never heard it put quite like that, but I guess that would be the case. Why?"

"Just curious."

"Haven't you ever heard that curiosity killed the cat?"

"That seems to be a rule in this house," she muttered, sitting at the table. "It seems like Steward won't answer any questions I ask-

"He's not the answering type," he pointed out.

"What 'type' is he,' she asked.

He shrugged. "Don't ask me. I just live here."

She couldn't help but smile. "Oh, I see."

Her fingers lifted a bit of her meal, as her boss's grandson lifted the soda to his lips. "How old are you?"

Her eyes narrowed at him. "It's not polite to ask a woman her age."

"Who said you're a woman," he retorted.

She crossed her arm. "Well, since you're not gentleman, I'm sixteen. And you?"

"Seventeen," he answered. "Sixteen, huh? Does that mean that you're in tenth grade?"

Alexandra couldn't help but gulp. "A senior."

His brows rose. "Really? You're that smart."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"No offense meant," he said, holding up his hands. "I just didn't think that you'd be that intelligent… that didn't come out right."

She stood up, gathering up the last of her meal. "You really should stop while you're ahead."

He nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right."

A smile appeared, as she left. "See ya, Mr. Thornton."

"Ms. White."

She nearly chuckled, when she left.

_\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/_

"Don't get attached."

Eric rolled his eyes, ignoring the shadow entering the room.

"She won't say no," he said, throwing his can in the trashcan. "You know that."

"Perhaps… but caution will be beneficial on your part."

He crossed his arms, looking towards the window. "You know, I was just thinking of how you've been beneficial… at all."

A faint chuckle was heard, before silence.

_/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\_

"Whoa, Alex. What happened to you? You look like you ran into a bus."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Sam."

The teen guy only held up his hands. "I'm just saying, you always look nice so it's surprising to see you with messy hair."

She sat on the couch, in the "family room", of the orphanage. One of the younger kids was changing the channels constantly, but then ran off and played. Audrey and her sidekick, Bethany, sat down on the couch, taking over the remote.

Alexandra closed her eyes, exhausted from working. She didn't even open them, when she heard the channel change to the news.

_Who is Hellboy? Citizens of New York City can only speculate. There have been several photos and videos that prove that something is definitely out there. Is the concept of Hellboy far-fetched, or just misunderstood?_

"I'm tellin' ya," said Bethany, pointing at Audrey, "my bro saw him one night."

"You're bro is a junkie," retorted the blonde. "You couldn't trust him with a dollar, why a national secret?"

"You callin' that secret? Hellboy ain't no secret! You and I both know he's real! Alex, back me up here!"

Sam leaned over from his chair. "I wouldn't."

_More Hellboy sightings coming up, as well as Director Manning of the CIA. Right now, murder in the Bronx and not one that many police and forensic specialist can stomach. Apparently the murderer sliced his victim into literal ribbons, leaving only part of the body behind. Two local children were playing, when they found the victim in the dumpster. The authorities have not yet given a statement, other than that they are unsure of who the victim was or why he or she was disposed of in such a gruel and vicious way._

Alexandra's eyes widened, when she saw the footage. A forensic team lifted up strips and piece of red and pink parts, basically raw meat. Unfortunately, they were not the type of meat one would ask for at the butcher shop.

She pulled out her cell phone, dialing a very familiar number and allowing it to go through.

_Yo, this is Guillermo. Leave a message after the beep or else._

"Guillermo, it's Alex" she said, leaving the couch. "Look, I know that you're gonna think I'm insane, but just listen. There's no way that a human could have killed a person that way. It's gotta be an animal. Judging by the bite and scratch marks, it's gotta be a bear or bigger. Check the results of the forensics tests and read closely."

Sam looked at her funny. "So, an animal did that?"

She nodded. "There's no way that a human did that. The slice and bite patterns are too violent and animalistic."

He grimaced. "Let's hope you're right. I wouldn't want a psycho like that mad at me."

She could only nod, before she went to bed.

Author's Note; Reviews! I know it's going a little slow with the Hellboy part, but I assure you that things will move along soon.


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